


Recovering From a Bad First Impression

by PsychoticEvolution



Series: In Another World [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Homophobia, Human AU, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Modern AU, Q being the adorable asshole that he is, Transphobia, and Picard being totally done with him, but they fall in love anyways because they should be together, nothing stronger than kissing, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7762306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoticEvolution/pseuds/PsychoticEvolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a difficult story to make a summary for but I'll try:<br/>Q didn't exactly make the best first impression when he met Picard but once he finally gets Picard to go on a date with him, he thinks he can make it up. And as the date progresses, Picard's initial feelings towards Q begin to change.<br/>(Human/Modern AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovering From a Bad First Impression

**Author's Note:**

> For Qcard Big Bang on Tumblr.
> 
> This story will make a total of 2 stories I've ever posted (both for this event)...please don't be too harsh...honestly I'm trying...

_ How do you feel? _ The man asked himself as he thoughtfully stared at the painting.  _ I don’t feel anything. It’s rubbish. _ He gave an amused huff then moved to the next painting. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet, his walking even.

“Oof!” He exclaimed as he collided with a large figure. He felt a warm liquid dripping down his hands and his stomach began to feel uncomfortably hot.

“Watch where you’re- Oh. Hello,” the large figure purred as he eyed the smaller man.

“Sorry,” the smaller man said grimly.

“My name is Byron. Quincy Byron,” he continued to eye the smaller man with a predatory smirk, “You can call me Q.” The smaller man didn’t respond, he simply gave a curt nod then shoved his way past the taller man.

“Hey, wait!” Q called out to him. The smaller man walked briskly, dodging and bypassing the surrounding people. But Q was almost like a force, people seemed to move out of the way for him, and he was soon by the smaller man’s side. Q happily pulled out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the smaller man. The smaller man glared at him and cautiously took the handkerchief.

“What about yourself?” The smaller man asked, taking on a diplomatic tone. He had cleaned his hands but the liquid on his shirt had dried. He recognized the faint smell easily.  _ A grown man drinking hot chocolate? _

Q simply shrugged. “Jean-Luc Picard. You’re French,” he stated cooly.

“How did you…” Picard trailed off as Q held up his wallet.

“You own a wine store. Egotistically called Picard. You have a picture of a young boy, perhaps 12 or 13, and, although he bears a striking resemblance to you, he is not your child since he is missing your distinctive features. Most likely your nephew. You enjoy music and art, I want to say classical for both-”

“And you,” Picard snapped, “are arrogant, stubborn, dishonest, vain, childish, ill-man-”

“I get it!” Q exclaimed harshly. There was an awkward silence as the two continued to walk alongside each other.

“So, does that mean you won’t go out with me?” Q eventually inquired. Picard gave Q an icy glare that finally made the taller man stop following him.

“Is that a no?” Q called out to him as Picard just continued to walk.

*****

Picard sat comfortably behind the counter, reading and drinking a glass of his own wine. He gave a relaxed sigh and buried himself deeper into the safety of his book.

_ Ding-Ding. _ Picard immediately stood up at the noise of the bell. He tugged on his shirt, leaving it perfectly straight, and plastered a friendly expression of his face.

“How can I help- Oh. It’s you,” Picard spat. He chugged the rest of his wine then poured another glass.

“Nice to see you too, gorgeous,” Q purred, the same predatory smirk as yesterday. Picard glared at him. Q gave him an innocent smile in return then gracefully hopped over the counter.

“Why are you here, Byron?” Picard asked harshly.

“Q.”

“Byron-”

“Q.”

“Get out, By-”

“Q.”

“What do you want, Q?!” Picard shouted.

Q smirked again, “You forgot to take back your wallet, silly.” Q pulled out Picard’s wallet from his sweatshirt pocket and tossed it to him. Q smiled innocently again as he took the glass of wine.

“1967,” Q stated with an affectionate smile after a small sip.  _ It makes him look younger _ , Picard thought,  _ added to the loose chinos and oversized sweatshirt. _ It was a nice change from the stuffy suit he wore yesterday. He seemed more approachable in casual clothing.

Picard sighed, “What do you really want, Q?”

“You already know what I want,” Q took another sip. Picard eyed him. To be fair, he had plenty of male lovers in the past and he had to admit that the thought of learning more about this mysterious creature was provocative. But he also knew that Q was...unpredictable. They hadn’t known each other long but it was obvious that Q wasn’t an easy person to get along with.

Picard sighed again, “If I agree to go on a date with you will you stop pestering me?”

Q smiled widely.

*****

Jean-Luc emerged from the shower feeling refreshed. It has been a surprisingly busy day. It wasn’t uncommon that he get many customers on Friday since a great deal of people had their parties on the weekend but today he had even more than usual.

He sighed as he swiftly pulled on his briefs then sat on the bed, grabbing his phone in the process. _One text message._ _Probably from Q._ Jean-Luc ignored it for now and went to his music instead. He put it on shuffle then threw the phone back onto the bed and continued getting ready.

“Hungarian Dance No. 5,” he recognized immediately, “Brahms.”

He relaxed as he grabbed a pair of grey slacks and a light blue shirt from his closet. After ironing them and carefully running a lint roller over them, Jean-Luc finally checked the text message.

Be there in 20.

\- Q

8:08 PM

Jean-Luc checked the time and gave a frustrated huff. It was just a few minutes from 8:30. He hurriedly got dressed and had just finished fastening the last button when there was a knock at the door. Jean-Luc quickly tied his tie then opened the door.

“Hey,” Q purred, “Ready to go?”

Jean-Luc nodded and followed Q to his car. He almost gasped at the sight of the vibrant red beauty.

“Vintage Jaguar?” Jean-Luc inquired, he traced delicate fingers along the side of the car, being careful not to leave any marks.

“My father gave it to me before he died,” Q whispered into Jean-Luc’s ear. Jean-Luc jumped inwardly and turned to face him, Q had his usual expression: a predatory smirk with a hungry gleam in his eyes. Q swiftly opened the door for Jean-Luc then lightly jogged to the other side to get in himself.

The drive was quiet but not awkward. Q was focused on the road but every now and then he would drum his fingers on the wheel. Jean-Luc played a few games on his phone to pass the time.

“We’re here,” Q exclaimed happily as he practically jumped out of the car. Jean-Luc opened the door himself before Q could do it for him. Q gave him a pseudo-hurt face then chuckled lightly. Jean-Luc noticed that Q seemed a little nervous as he begun to fidget with clothing. Picking at his collar, straightening his cuffs, toying with the hem of his vest.

“Let’s go, Q,” Jean-Luc said suddenly, trying to make his voice sound friendly and giving Q a warm smile. Q gave his own warm smile in return then started heading toward the small building.

“This place is pretty pricey and I don’t want you to feel obligated to get separate checks so I’m paying,” Q insisted.

Jean-Luc shook his head slightly, “I really couldn’t let you-”

“No,” Q continued, “I know you don’t want to be here so it’s all my treat.”

“Q, I agreed to-”

“Don’t spare my feelings, Jean-Luc. It’s alright,” Q sighed, “I know I’m a pompous ass and that you only agreed to this to get me off your back.”

Jean-Luc was about to argue but he just shrugged in defeat, “I am trying to enjoy myself, Q.” Q gave a half-hearted smile and opened the door for Jean-Luc.

“Table for two,” Q requested with a polite smile which quickly faded into confusion at the owner’s scowl.

“What was that all about?” Jean-Luc whispered to Q who simply shrugged with a puzzled expression.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Q suggested as they were led to a table, “What if they spit in our food or something…”

Jean-Luc chuckled softly, “Unless they force us out, there is no point in going to another restaurant. Just relax, Q. Enjoy yourself.”

Q seemed taken aback. He didn’t think that Jean-Luc would be so...laid-back. Especially after the first impression he had made at the museum last Sunday.

“You’re right, Johnny. Maybe it’s because I’m kind of nervous. I haven’t been on a date in a while,” Q sat back and drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. Jean-Luc laughed softly.

“I have to say though, I feel like I am slightly at a disadvantage,” Jean-Luc stated.

Q smiled, “There isn’t much to tell you really. I’ve been an orphan my whole life and my love of music led me to buy a record store.”

“I thought your father gave you the car?” Jean-Luc questioned.

“He did. I was two when he died and the car was put in storage until I got my license.”

“What happened to your mother?” Jean-Luc asked softly.

“Died during childbirth. She was already sick so the pain of childbirth just aggravated her illness.” Q’s usual jocular expression was replaced by melancholy. Jean-Luc shifted uncomfortably, the expression seemed foreign on Q’s face.

“Get out!” a booming voice demanded. Q and Jean-Luc turned to face the source. It was the owner.

“I told you,” Q whispered, “We should’ve gone somewhere else.”

“Haven’t you been here before?” Jean-Luc questioned.

“It was over ten years ago. The owner was different last time I came.”

“You’re not welcome here! Get out!” The owner was shouting at a young transboy and his girlfriend.

“We just want some food!” One of them shouted in response. Jean-Luc could clearly see the rage and revulsion in Q’s expression.

“We already have two fags here! Get out, you unnatural freaks!”

In a split second, Q was towering over the owner. But despite the dark gleam in his eyes and the scowl on his face, Q’s voice didn’t seem to modulate, “Cool fact: homosexuality exists in 450 species and homophobia in only one. Which seems unnatural now, dickhead?” The owner continued to scowl at Q and Q glared back at him with disgust. “Let’s go, Jean-Luc,” Q finally growled.

Jean-Luc quickly followed behind Q as they both exited the restaurant. Q didn’t bother to open the door for Jean-Luc this time and Jean-Luc was somewhat hurt by that. He was impressed by Q's fervor but seeing Q acting any way other than his usual flamboyant self just seemed odd to him.

“I’m taking you home,” Q said sternly. Jean-Luc didn't argue but inside he knew he wouldn't leave Q like this. He couldn't. He had only known Q for barely 2 days but he had begun to care deeply for the taller man. He didn’t know why. He basically hated Q at first but today Q had shown him a softer yet more passionate side of himself that Jean-Luc admired. Jean-Luc wanted to learn more about the brown eyed man. He wanted to make him feel good - emotionally and physically. Jean-Luc blushed slightly at the thought. Would Q even want to see him again? Q certainly thought that Jean-Luc didn’t want to see him again. Jean-Luc frowned. Was Q truly so insecure? When was the last time Q had a real relationship? He wanted so bad to learn more about the mysterious creature next to him. Jean-Luc just couldn’t stop thinking that same thought, couldn’t stop thinking about questions he wanted to ask Q.

In all honestly, he couldn’t stop thinking about Q in general.

Until he was abruptly jerked forward, saved only by his seatbelt locking.

“We’re here,” Q said, his expression listless and his tone harsh. He didn’t bother turning off the car or unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I’m not leaving, Q,” Jean-Luc replied calmly, crossing his arms and meeting Q’s glare with one of his own.

“I want to be alone,” Q growled, clearly aggravated.

“Q…” Jean-Luc said gently. 

Q’s expression softened as he saw the look in Jean-Luc’s eyes but he was quite obstinate. “Please…” Q replied just as gently.

Jean-Luc gave an irritated huff then furiously got out the car. Q blinked before practically throwing himself out of the car. He grunted as a strong force held him back.  _ Stupid seat belt. _ He quickly unbuckled it then called for Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc stopped walking and only barely turned to face Q. Q couldn't think of anything to say.

“I want to help you, Q,” Jean-Luc sighed after a moment, finally turning to face Q completely.

Q sighed too then gave Jean-Luc a small smile, “Come on. The park's on the other side of the block.”

“It is?” Jean-Luc questioned as he lightly jogged over to Q.

“Don’t you ever go outside?” Q scoffed.

They spent the few minute walk chatting happily, mainly small talk and teasing. 

The park was almost completely empty except for a few couples and the ducks quacking softly by the lake. Jean-Luc would have been totally at ease in the serene environment if he weren't so concerned about Q but as he noticed Q walk with a carefree swagger, he relaxed a little more himself.

Q turned to face him and his eyes seemed to sparkle. Jean-Luc smiled for a moment then frowned. He sat on the edge of the fountain and Q sat across from him on a bench. Jean-Luc blinked as something flew by him then splashed into the water. He looked at Q with a confused smile.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Q smiled back as he tossed another penny into the fountain.

Jean-Luc chuckled softly and sat next to Q. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes. “Why?” he asked simply, uncertain if Q fully comprehended the question and anxious to hear his reply.

Q gave him a sad smile, “When I was little...I had to stay in an orphanage...I already told you my parents died when I was a baby...and I was the youngest...there were almost three dozen of us living in a small two story house...one by one, as we got older, that number decreased until there was about 10 of us...one of my ‘brother's’ was really into the LGBT movements in the 70s...sometimes he would take me to pride parades, he said I reminded him of himself when he was my age...I was a kid, a toddler really...our ‘parents’ never knew...when I was 7, he finally came out to them...to say the least, they weren't happy...and they…” Q heaved out a sigh, “he committed suicide a year later…” Q’s eyes were slightly watery but his voice didn’t crack, “When I was 13 I realized...you know...that I was different...not necessarily gay...maybe bi...to be honest, I'm still not sure. I don’t really think about it much...but anyways, I ran away...took my birth certificate, the few clothes I had, and stole some textbooks from the library....I made a living scamming people...I was a con artist...a good one too...when I turned 18 and got my license, I got the car my dad left me and drove to Las Vegas,” Q chuckled softly, his eyes glistened slightly as they began to dry, “I hit the jackpot, Johnny. I made almost a million dollars...bought the record store from some old guy who wanted to retire...and now,” he sighed, “here I am...” Q gave Jean-Luc a half-hearted smile. Then he stood up quickly and made his way over to the lamppost by the bench. He swung himself then grabbed onto it, hanging limply as he stared at the stars, “What’d’ya think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Jean-Luc sighed as he lay down on the bench, his legs hanging over the side and his arms now being used a pillows, “You are a survivor, Q, I know that. And I know that you are passionate and caring, in your own way, and you have a fire in you that's impossible to douse. And that you act the way you do because you want to somehow trick yourself into thinking you're not insecure. It's okay to feel that way, Q. It's okay to want to be loved and it's okay to love. It's okay to feel lonely. And it's okay to want help. I want to help you, Q. I want to be there for you because I love you,” Jean-Luc stopped talking almost immediately. He couldn't believe what he had just said but he knew it was true. He loved Q. He felt it in his heart, his soul, his very being. He wanted to be with Q forever. Wanted to help Q out of this dark room he was to stubborn to leave and play outside in the sun. And in the process, whether either of them realized it or not, Q would be helping Jean-Luc do the same.

Suddenly Q was towering over Jean-Luc, his eyes glittering with the light of the lamp post. Jean-Luc stood up slowly, staring at Q's chocolate colored eyes the whole time, then softly pulled him into a gentle kiss. Q instinctively put his hands on Jean-Luc's hips and Jean-Luc wrapped his arms around Q's neck.

Q began to chuckle softly and Jean-Luc pulled away with a puzzled look.

“I was actually asking about the stars,” Q laughed a little harder and Jean-Luc pushed him playfully. Q kissed Jean-Luc’s cheek and smiled as the smaller man blushed. After a bit of playful teasing, they sat down on the bench and stared at the stars again.

“That right there,” Q pointed to one of the constellations while slyly intertwining his fingers with Jean-Luc’s, “that's Ursa Major. Inside her is the Big Dipper. And next to it is Ursa Minor-”

“Which, I'm guessing, has the Little Dipper,” Jean-Luc interrupted with a faint smile as he continued to stare at the stars.

Q looked down at Jean-Luc and smiled lovingly, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and leave kudos!


End file.
